Endless forms of beauty
by Looking-for-a-shooting-star30
Summary: During Sherlock's supposed death he found himself reunited with an old friend, who ends up at 221B needing his help to solve some murders that are mysteriously linked to her. Emma is daring, intelligent, intriguing and beautiful. Seemingly incredibly comfortable around him with a mysterious and dangerous past involved, she has everyone wondering who she is & how she knows Sherlock.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is my first ever attempt at writing anything for fan fiction, criticism is definitely appreciated but please take my inexperience into account. Enjoy!**

Running. She always seemed to be running where ever she went, dodging people in a busy New York street, Emma knew she had to find somewhere safe quickly. Having been to many cities around the world, New York was by far the best. It wasn't because of the great atmosphere or the spectacular variety of people you could meet, it was because for the last eight years this city had been her home. Emma had a very fulfilling job being a cop as she was able to right some of the wrong doings she had previously made in what felt like another life. Even though the past eight years seemed like it was all sunshine and rainbows, there were times when she had felt like an impostor who was going to get caught out at any moment.

Emma was running because finding another body in the center of Manhattan, which fitted the pattern of a number of murders carried out by a recent serial killer had landed her in hot water. For weeks Emma and her partner, Detective Costello have been working on a string of murders that appear to have been committed by a female assailant. As the body count increased so did the evidence, the evidence which for some reason was starting to implicate her. No one had directly pieced the parts of the puzzle together but Emma knew that the latest piece of evidence they found at the last crime scene would somehow be linked to her. She had already discovered that although she knew none of the victims, the method in which they were killed were shockingly familiar to her.

After running several blocks through the freezing rain Emma found herself in a cheap motel pacing up and down, luckily she had managed to contact an old friend at the CIA who had managed to get her on the next flight to London. Emma needed to see the one person who knew about her past but would help her regardless. The man was infuriatingly clever and didn't know the meaning of tact, but no one could argue that he wasn't brilliant. Yes, Emma was going to London and she was going to see Sherlock Holmes.


	2. Chapter 2

Sitting on a seven hour long plan ride, Emma had a lot of time to contemplate about what was happening. For the past 8 years, she has managed to create a new perfect life for herself but now it seems everything is falling apart. She always prides herself on having good intuition so when that familiar gut feeling started Emma knew the worst was yet to come. Looking out the window seeing an endless amount of wispy clouds, all she could to was close her eyes and take a deep breath as she braced herself for what was about to happen.

* * *

Seven hours later

Grey. It seemed like a fitting color to suit her mood as she stepped off the aeroplane into London, the rain was drizzling down and the air held a cold chill. London seemed so foreign to her even though she had visited this country many times, getting into a black taxi there was only one destination in mind. 221B Baker Street.

_Flashback_

2 years ago:

Serbia, a cold bitter night. Emma was walking towards her house as she heard the cheering of the soldiers coming from the local bar on her right. Keeping her eyes forward and her hand on a knife she had securely in the sleeve of her black coat she kept walking towards her destination. Glancing around her she noticed all the usual men hanging around outside watching her like they were going to pounce on her at any moment. But at the end of the road there was a man with dark hair that desperately needed to be cut and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. The mysterious stranger seemed to be analysing everything about her, there was something about him that made an involuntary shiver run down her spine.

_End of flashback _

Pulling up at Baker Street left Emma with a sense of dread, it has been months since she has last talked to Sherlock let alone seen him and honestly she didn't know how he would react to her just turning up unannounced. It angered her that she could never read him, never predict what move he was going to make, he always challenges her. Challenges her beliefs, her expectations and most importantly challenges the decisions she has made and the ones she will make.

Paying the taxi driver, Emma knocks on the large black door while hastily scanning the surrounding street. The door opens slowly engulfing her in the smell of lavender and peppermint tea, immediately Emma knows this is Mrs Hudson Sherlock's landlady.

"Hello dear, are you here to see Sherlock?" Mrs Hudson's English accent sounding very calming as she ushered Emma into the hall. "Sherlock you have a client!" Mrs Hudson yelled loudly when no reply came she told Emma to just go right on up anyway. Emma followed the dark wallpaper up to the flat above hearing the faint sound of violin music being played. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breathe to calm herself, she stepped into the room feeling welcomed upon seeing a roaring fire.

"Sherlock?" Emma said ever so softly. She suddenly felt very faint as she braced herself for his calculating gaze. The gaze that could tell him what she eat with breakfast, how she got the tiny scuffs on her black boots and every other detail about herself. With him nothing was invisible, no mask was ever good enough, every flaw was exposed and raw. "Emma?" Sherlock said sounding surprised and calm.

For several moments neither spoke they just stood there staring at each other, the only sound in the room was of the fire cracking. Suddenly both of them walked towards each other and Emma was swept in a warm hug surrounded by the familiar smell of tobacco and something distinctly Sherlock.


	3. Chapter 3

"What's wrong?" Sherlock says quietly as if he hadn't already deduced what had happened to her in the past 24 hours. Emma sat down quietly, keeping her eyes trained on her shoes suddenly finding a scuff at the side of her boot more interesting then maintaining eye contact with him. "Emma?" Sherlock said sounding impatient but she knew he really just wanted to know why she had turned up here in London as he knew the danger of her being here exposed and vulnerable.

Sitting down in the one of the armchairs beside the fire, Emma told Sherlock everything about the murders that she and her partner were working on. She told him all about the struggles of trying to deceive all her colleagues as the evidence slowly began to incriminate her, the method of which the victims were killed and trying to stay one step ahead of whoever was trying to frame her. Sherlock's blank expression did not change once even when Emma described the most personal and terrifying detail about how the victims were killed. Even the thought of the victims, New York and her past made her stomach churn and the ability to keep her eyes open even harder. Emma had been working on these murder cases for weeks and couldn't even remember when she last had any rest.

After Emma had finished talking, the room was filled with silence that was suffocating and after what felt like years, Sherlock stood up and picked up his violin playing a soft, calming piece of music that seemed strangely familiar. Before she could try and figure out why it was so familiar, Emma felt her eyes begin to droop and quickly fell into a deep slumber feeling safe for the first time in weeks.

Waking up the room was dark and cold with Sherlock no were in sight, Emma found this thought strangely comforting as she really had no idea what she was going to say to him next. Sherlock was always so hard to read, meeting him again in Serbia was a strange and exhilarating experience. He was brilliant, fearless and a dynamic force. But only when he wasn't being a huge pain in the ass always showing off. Coming to London for help seemed like her only option and Emma didn't hesitant to associate being safe with Sherlock, but coming here after so many months apart and practically invading his life was going to lead to a lot of questions that really she knew Sherlock wasn't going to want to answer.

Suddenly the door flew open and in stepped the man himself. Pulling off his long coat and his blue scarf his usually impeccable suit seemed slightly crumpled, which was strange for him since he always seemed so perfect to her. "Long night?" Emma called out, her tone of voice sounding louder in the quiet room. Sherlock's whole body stilled like he had forgotten she was there, Emma was suddenly expecting him to bring up New York but she was pleasantly surprised when he spent the next twenty minutes describing his nightly activities in great detail which involved a new experiment he was conducting using a human tongue from Bart's hospital.

"Are you still tired, Emma?" Her natural brown waves were a bit dishevelled from sleeping in the armchair and her arms were wrapped loosely around her body trying to stay warm. Looking at her Sherlock realised she had never looked more beautiful, Emma waking up in the morning with her hair tousled and stretching out like a lazy cat was always his favourite moment of the day. Remembering all these moments caused Sherlock to faintly smile at her, "What?" Emma asked sounding quite defensive and annoyed. Sherlock didn't answer, he just took Emma by the hand leading her to his bedroom and continued telling her all about what happened when you performed a fascinating experiment on the human tongue and about how he couldn't understand how stupid everyone else was around him.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: A levels have been taking up a lot of my time and this is my first time i have written anything so Im sorry for the wait. I will be uploading another one shot about Sherlock and Emma so if you're interested check out 'The beauty of the past.'****I am a little stuck on which character should meet Emma next so any suggestions would be nice, please review and let me know :-) **

The room was freezing and the air had a damp, cold feeling as the wind was howling outside. Moving slightly onto her side, the metal of the handcuffs scraped against the bedpost creating a terrible noise that made her cringe. The door opened letting in some light to an otherwise pitch black room, the sound of her walking towards the bed echoed throughout the room and she waited with bided breathe for what was going to happen next.

Feeling the handcuffs come unlocked, Emma raised her bruised wrists to her chest and waited for the familiar tug on her leg which signalled she had to move. Standing up and moving towards the door, she walked down the long freezing corridor to the bathroom to prepare for the day.

The painfully cold water sprayed down her back making her muscles ache and the blue and black array of bruises even more painful. Washing herself quickly Emma got dressed in the standard trousers and t-shirt, feeling somewhat cleaner even in the filthy conditions she called home. She walked down towards the courtyard, her stomach aching due to the lack of bread and water given. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, she tried to mentally prepare for what was going to happen next. Being stuck in this dreadful place with the system that controlled her, Emma felt like she would never get out, never get to experience a world that wasn't filled with darkness and monsters. The system was designed to break her spirit and make her unhinged like a wild animal. But Emma felt like the opposite had happened, what was meant to break her was actually keeping her fighting, the prospect of leaving this place and having freedom gave her the will to fight.

Everyone time all the girls here were forced to fight, learn many languages, learn about the world outside this place and learn of their place in it, doing their duty. Emma felt like she was ignoring her heart until it became blind and deaf, she could feel herself growing harder, slowing losing herself to the people who controlled her.

Stepping into the courtyard Emma joined in a line with about 10 other girls, the instructor stood before them holding a black box. The instructor started walking down the line with every girl reaching into the box and pulling out a black marble except one girl who had chosen a white marble. Knowing there was only one white marble left inside the box, Emma prayed she did not have the unfortunate ability to pick the white marble. Putting her hand inside the box she withdraw a white marble, upon realising her fate she was momentarily frozen with nerves and the fear of having to fight her opponent.

Dodging a kick to the shins and having to endure a punch to the ribs, Emma's spirit was slowly fading as she wondered whether or not she would win. Losing was not an option, she was trained to fight until the other person was dead and no longer a threat. Briefly she wondered about what he was doing, where he was, if he would even recognise her and whether or not at the end of all this, if there would be anything left of her soul. Knocking the other girl to the ground she heard the instructor say "Это то, что вы называете борьбы? Там будет только один победитель, бороться!"

Dodging an elbow to the face, Emma kicked the other girl and used this moment of weakness to hold the girl in a chokehold, squeezing her neck and slowly taking her life. Looking up Emma held eye contact with the instructor, trying to silently plead with the woman to not make her do this. The instructor only nodded sealing the fate of the girl and Emma in one single moment. Whispering "Мне жаль" Emma snapped the girl's neck cleanly and efficiently.

**Translation: **

**Это то, что вы называете бой? Там будет только один победитель, бороться!- This is what you call a fight? There will be only one winner, fight!**

**Мне жаль- I'm sorry **


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: This is the longest chapter yet, Hoorah! Since this is my first time writing I have tried to increase the amount of words for each chapter. It's sort of a weird goal but I feel it is very encouraging and hope you enjoy this chapter! **

The cracking sound of the girl's neck snapping awoke Emma from a fitful sleep as the sweat clung to her body. "Breathe, just breathe." Emma repeated over and over again as she took long deep breathes to try and slow down her racing heart.

Getting up Emma took a long shower and not feeling like going back into Sherlock's room and disturbing him, she chose to just stay in the blue towel wrapped securely around her body. She then walked out towards the small kitchen which was littered with pieces of paper and various types of science equipment. Putting on the kettle, Emma wandered out towards the bathroom drying her hair with a separate towel, turning she became face to face with John Watson.

"Umm, what? Who are you... umm?" John said while opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Emma couldn't help but smirk as Sherlock's description of John Watson was so accurate that he was exactly what she had imagined and seemed to be having a mental breakdown at seeing her.

"John? Where's Sherlock?" Said a petite blond who appeared to be getting impatient at the lack of response from John. Emma suspected this was the woman who now called herself Mary. "Sherlock is still sleeping, I was just about to go and check on him" said Emma who seemed to have alerted Mary and John to the fact that she was still in the room. Mary's facial expressions was one of shock before it morphed into a warm expression with a curious grin. Turning to go and wake Sherlock, Emma called over her shoulder "I'm Emma by the way."

Walking into Sherlock's bedroom Emma got changed and woke up Sherlock telling him about the unexpected visitors. Sherlock walked out fixing his suit and sat down acting like he couldn't tell that John and Mary were not still shocked about Sherlock's new friend. Emma made tea for everyone and told John and Mary all about her life in New York (Well the life she made up under an alias.) Throughout her brief description of what her name was, what brought her to London and what her job was Emma could feel Mary's trained eyes upon her looking sceptically of every lie that came out of her mouth.

After Mary and John left (it had appeared that they just wanted to check in on Sherlock since it had been a while since they had seen him, Sherlock got straight to work on going over all the details of the crimes committed in New York.

"So all victims were male, aged 30+ and were all killed in the same skilled way?" Sherlock asked. "Yeah, at the start we had zero evidence." Said Emma curling herself into an armchair and looking at the living room wall which now had crime scene photos hung up. "I mean there was no forced entry, no murder weapon, and no sign of a struggle. The murder was committed efficiently and the killer has to be professionally trained." Sherlock made no comment for a few minutes after Emma had finished speaking and just stared at the photos, his face reflecting no emotions. "What changed? Something must have or you wouldn't be here bothering me, I mean your case isn't even a 6. No offence but kind of predictable, not to mention boring." Said Sherlock.

Emma had always prided herself on being strong, mentally and physically. She has been through things that not even Sherlock could imagine, she knows what it is like to be controlled and she remembers being at a point so low that she was an emotionless ghost just floating around in what felt like her own little screwed up world. Even though she had a 'thick skin' sometimes the little Sherlock comments that only he makes especially when he is bored, make her heart ache.

"As the killer kept committing more crimes more evidence then kept turning up. My partner and boss just assumed that since the crimes were gathering more media coverage and that we were closing in on the perpetrator then, the killer was getting sloppy. But I think leaving the evidence was intentional." Emma explained.

"Because you used to kill in exactly the same way, by slitting their throats from ear to ear? Cleanly and professionally." Sherlock bitterly said. "Yes! But don't say it like that!" Said Emma. "Say it like what?" responded Sherlock his voice rising in volume to match her voice, almost shouting. "Like I'm some sort of monster that I enjoyed what I did! " Shouted Emma. "I have come to terms with the evil part of me that was exploited and used to do horrible things. But it is only a part of me, I know who I am and Im sorry but that naïve, fragile little girl that you once knew is gone. She's dead. So is that curly haired boy that didn't always believe in sentiment being a weakness. They are both dead and they're never coming back, we have changed. So don't you dare look at my past with contempt, you aren't exactly sin free." Emma finished saying, trying to catch her breathe while not breaking eye contact with his cold steel blued eyes.

_2 weeks later_

Over the last few weeks Emma had met the rest of Sherlock's friends and the shock of meeting her had soon wore off and was replaced by curiosity. Emma and Sherlock had made up after their fight and even though he hadn't said he was sorry, the cup of teas and the kisses on the top of her head suggest that he was sorry for everything that had happened. He knew Emma was scared even if she wouldn't admit it.

The first time Sherlock showed a hint of affection towards her in public was when all his friends where in his apartment celebrating Easter. Emma was drinking a glass of wine while having a conversation with Mary and Molly when Sherlock took her empty glass refilled it and placed a kiss on the side of her head when he returned it. Emma accepted the glass and her body subconsciously leaned in him revelling in the familiarity of it. Over the past few weeks Emma and Sherlock had gotten closer as the case into the killer had gone cold, there seemed to be no more bodies turning up in New York and for some reason her partner had stopped calling her. Emma was putting on a convincing act, like the fact that these murders led directly to her and put her into an even more exposed position was no big deal. Maybe they had caught the perpetrator and everything was okay. But Sherlock knew better, she was worried and he vowed a long time ago that he would not let anything happen to her again. He intended to keep this promise and try to forget about New York but at the back of his mind Sherlock couldn't help but think that the worst was yet to come and that this mysterious killer who was targeting Emma was not finished just yet.


End file.
